Catharsis
by Xirysa
Summary: FE7. There are some things in this world that are not easy to justify; war is one of them. Lucius and Sain.


**Catharsis**

-x-x-x-

_And with the blessings of the Saint and her Lord…_

One pale hand raised as the other clutched the tome to his chest, hallowed chants tumbling from cold lips in the heat of battle; a word lost in a burst of noise, unmarred faced shining brilliantly as a flash of light illuminated the field.

_May she keep you to her bosom evermore, in peace and love._

Again and again he recited the oaths he had learnt as a child, words of benevolence and righteousness, even as the charred bodies fell around him, sad twisted and misshapen things that no longer resembled any human form.

It was Elimine's way, the monks and bishops had said as they taught him how to properly utilize the life energy that ran through all of the Lord's creatures, showed him to control the ebb and flow of that pure _essence_, to pray and heal, work wonders with staff and tome, to create good and end all evil, killing, maiming, pillaging, destroying, burning, burning—_always burning_…

They trudged back to camp silently; their path was a trail of corpses, empty eyes staring, accusing. _Save us, help us—take me, love me._

For he had failed, had he not? To serve the good Saint by protecting her followers, leading them away from a path of vice and sin, and toward a life filled with all that was good and holy—that was what he had been taught to do.

But the thought of what his actions had become—a twisted mockery of Elimine's teachings, warped beyond recognition into some barely tangible _thing_ he could not name—plagued him even after they returned to camp, whispering quietly into his mind as he forced himself to smile and talk as Lord Raymond spoke of revenge and a childhood in a home that no longer existed.

The younger man did not seem to notice his distress—only once did his gaze soften, almost imperceptibly, to those who did know him well.

"Is something wrong?" Lord Raymond asked in his usual curt manner as they sat in a quiet corner of camp, whetstone in hand as he sharpened the blade of a heavy steel broadsword.

He shook his head and stood. "No," he said. "Today's battle was exhausting, and we still have many wounded. Priscilla and Serra will need help caring for them."

A hard-eyed gaze, that perpetual scowl, and then a shrug as he turned back to his task. "Fine," he said. The whetstone grated against the edge of the blade. "Go on."

Without a word he left, lost deep in thought as he walked silently away from Lord Raymond, the healer's tents, the camp, until he found himself at the small brook they had found earlier that day—and that he was not alone.

One of the Lycian knights stood at the brook's edge as he watered his horse, rubbing a brown flank gently as the mare drank contentedly—Sain of Caelin, a man he had fought beside for well over a year.

The knight heard him approach; he seemed surprised, but was pleasant enough nonetheless. "Lucius," he said. "What brings you here?"

He shrugged—an ambivalent, but surprisingly fitting, action. "It has been a long day," he replied. "I wished for some solitude."

"I see." Sain patted the mare's neck gently. "If you'd like, I can leave—Kent said that he and I would share the second watch tonight. It seems Buttercup's had enough now, too." The mare nickered softly at the mention of her name, and Sain chuckled and took the reins. "There's a good girl."

"Stay, if you would like," he told the knight. He paused for a moment. "You have time, and you were also here before me—I would not wish to turn away anyone from such a tranquil spot."

Sain laughed softly. "Truth be told, I am like you—escaping the strange thing our lives have become, even if it is for a little bit." He cast a sidelong glance to his companion. "Would you mind if I stayed a little while longer?"

He shook his head. "Not at all." They stood together like that for a while, two men and a horse watching silently as the sky became awash in reds and purples, the land painted bloody bright, even as a question threatened to spill from his lips. "May I ask you something?" he asked finally.

"Of course." Running a hand through his hair, the knight gave him a small smile. "I don't mind."

"Thank you." He paused for a moment. "Why do you fight?" He watched his companion closely for a reaction. "I am sorry—you do not have to answer if you do not wish to."

But his companion shook his head. "No," Sain said. "It's a good question." He was silent for a few moments. "I fight," he said, "because I must."

"You must?"

Sain nodded. "Yes. I'm a soldier, but that's not why I fight. I learned how to wield a blade so that I could protect all that I hold dear—my family, at first, and then my village. When I was knighted, I vowed to protect Caelin. And now," he gestured out, to the vast expanse of land around them, "I fight for Elibe. I fight because I must—if I don't protect the things I care about, then who will?"

"Yet you kill. You learned how to fight with a lance and sword to protect everyone and everything, and yet you still kill."

"That is true." Sain nodded. "I won't deny it."

Curious. "What is your justification?"

The knight shrugged again. "It's simple, really. I don't hurt innocents: any woman, child, or man incapable of defending himself. I won't harm them. But the ones I have killed, the men and women I have cut down during my time as a soldier—they have no such distinction. So the ones that would harm all I hold dear, I will destroy them. That is my justification." Sain looked at him again.

"I see." He nodded and looked out to the setting sun as silence settled over them once more.

Minutes passed before Sain spoke again. "I'm afraid I must go back to camp," he said as he tightened his grip on the reins. "Will you be well enough on your own?"

"Yes." He held up the small tome he had brought with him from the campsite. "I will be fine."

Sain nodded and began to lead the mare away. "I'll see you at camp, then, Brother Lucius," he called over his shoulder before he left.

He nodded and watched Sain walk away for a few moments before turning back to the last few moments of twilight, mulling over the knight's words; only a few rays of bright light streaked across the darkening sky as the stars blinked into existence, and when the sun finally sank beneath the horizon he felt a strange sense of peace as the evening air was plunged into darkness.

-x-x-x-

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**Xirysa Says:** Mm. I'm rather apathetic about this piece, but whatever. Feedback is appreciated—thank you for reading!

Oh, and thank you, **Asherien**, for being my awesome beta person who, uh. Betas. xD


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